Patterns of Madness
by toestastegood
Summary: [Slash] For once, Reed forgets to think before he acts, and gets swept up in the tide of madness surrounding Johnny. [JohnnyReed One Shot]


A/N : Reed/Johnny **slash**. Sorry if that offends any rabid Johnny Storm fangirls that are convinced he's going to settle down and marry their Mary Sues. Flame me if you like, but I wouldn't use chatspeak if you want to be taken seriously.

It's one-shot, introspective piece, any reviews are loved and licked.

* * *

The first time, Reed had written it off as a mistake, a one-off.

The second time had been worrying, but two was a line, not a pattern. Two was just two similar but unconnected events. Nothing to concern himself with.

The third time caused him to brood a lot more, as three was certainly approaching a pattern. And yet, you couldn't work out an accurate mathematical pattern with only three sample digits, so he'd thought that he didn't have anything to worry about.

But, then there was four, and more, and four certainly was a pattern. It wasn't a pattern he had any interest in breaking, however. No, he wished it continue on and on. It was rash, and impulsive, and so entirely out of character, but he _wanted_ it. Surely it was alright to take what he wanted, for once.

No, it wasn't. It wasn't right when what he wanted was his future brother-in-law. That wasn't right at all. He was with Sue, the woman he'd been in love with for so many years now. The woman who was steady, safe, dependable. All the things that were the opposite of Johnny Storm.

Reed looks down at the sleeping bundle in his arms, and tries to feel guilty. He tries – he reminds himself that this is cheating, that it theoretically borders on incest, that it's wrong, that he should stop – and failed miserably. Johnny was… right.

He runs a hand through Johnny's hair – it's longer now, long enough for him to sink his hands in and _tug_ – and wonders what the hell he was doing. What would happen if Sue found out? If Ben did? If _anyone _did? This is so wrong. He ought to disentangle himself from Johnny's warm body, hunt out his clothes, and leave for good.

But, for once, Reed isn't going to do what he ought to. Sweat has dried on his bare skin, and the sheets surrounding him are damp and sticky, and that alone is enough to tell him that he isn't strong enough to break this chain. He likes it, he likes Johnny, and he loves the way Johnny makes him lose control, even if it is just for a painfully short time.

Recently, though, it has been for entire weekends. Ben's moved in with Alicia, and Sue's taking a training course that causes her to fly around the world to attend various conventions (this weekend, Reed thinks she's in Nepal, but it might have been Naples). Reed and Johnny are often left alone together. Initially, he'd dreaded it, sure that Johnny would be even more brash and rude with just one person to focus his attention on.

But it hadn't been nearly as awful as he'd expected. The first weekend, Johnny had dragged him away from his research to order out Chinese and hire a dreadful action film with him. They'd cracked open a few beers and Reed had finished the evening off by vomiting sweet and sour chicken down the toilet. That evening had been the most fun Reed could remember having in a long while. The next morning, Reed had woken up with a splitting headache and a vague memory of trying to force his tongue down Johnny's throat. When asked, Johnny had shrugged and said that Reed hadn't done anything to embarrass himself.

The second weekend they'd been left alone together, Johnny insisted that Reed came along to see some dumb film with him. Reed had reluctantly consented, although he'd secretly been thrilled. He hadn't been out of the lab for more than an hour at a time that week, never mind the building.

The film had been awful, what little he could remember of it, and the cinema had been practically deserted. Johnny didn't seem to notice or care, loaded up with popcorn, Pepsi and E numbers as they headed inside. Reed smiled indulgently, thinking that the look of raw excitement on Johnny's face was usually reserved for toddlers at birthday parties.

The lights in the cinema dimmed, and the film started after a selection of brightly coloured adverts. Starring Drew Barrymore and stuffed full of lingering shots of cleavage and short skirts, this wasn't Reed's idea of a good film. He sighed heavily and leaded his head on his hand. While this was probably Johnny's idea of superb cinema, Red was less than impressed.

He'd almost fallen asleep when Johnny's voice whispered in his ear. "You bored?" He jerked his head up, nearly head-butting Johnny in the process, and looked around in confusion. He heard Johnny snicker beside him. When the blood left his head and rushed south at the sound, he told himself that it was just because the camera was currently focused in on poor Ms. Barrymore's ass.

"N-no. It's quite… entertaining." He whispered back. Johnny shrugged and leaned back into his seat, while Reed looked down at his erection in pure horror. This continued for a few moments, until Johnny's hand snaked into his crotch and caused him to let out a startled squeak.

Johnny laughed quietly again, his thumb moving in lazy circles around Reed's groin. "Easy, Reed. You want us to get chucked out?" There was an unspoken "_you want me to stop?"_ in his words, so Reed shook his head rapidly while his breath grew shallow. This was… Wow. He definitely didn't want this to stop.

He wet his lips as Johnny continued his movements, allowing all thought to flee from his mind. A brief doubt – _what am I doing, we're in public, what about Sue_? – flashed through his mind, but vanished as Johnny sped up slightly. He moaned, jerked, and was given a giggling 'shhh' by Johnny as he came in his hand.

Johnny retreated instantly, took a drink of Pepsi, and turned his attention back to the film. Reed was left with sticky trousers and a flushed face.

He shifts in bed as he thinks of that first time, still perplexed by it. Johnny's a curious creature, definitely. A scientist could spend his entire life carrying out research on the guy, without ever coming to any conclusions. Just as well; Reed likes Johnny as an unpredictable puzzle, the one thing in his life that his over-sized brain could never solve. In his arms, Johnny shifts slightly and sleeps on.

He hadn't been able to get that cinema trip out of his mind for weeks after it happened. He blushed every time he thought of it, and although Johnny acted completely normal, Reed found himself getting hard every time they were in a room together. It was embarrassing. Very embarrassing.

He'd been almost thankful when Sue had announced that she was going to Athens to attend a genetics convention two weeks later. Another weekend alone with Johnny, a weekend in which he could act like a human instead of a scientist. If he was lucky, he'd even get an explanation for what had happened at the cinema. If he was really lucky, he'd get an encore.

However, Johnny avoided him. Or, rather, Johnny didn't hunt him out to persuade him to do something idiotic with him. That handsome face – good looks had to run in the Storm blood – didn't pop around the lab door to invite him to a film or club or gig. Instead, he was left to sit in his lab alone and stare at his blank blackboard for a few overly long hours. He knew Johnny was still in the apartment – the loud blaring music was a clue – but couldn't figure out why he was being ignored.

A quickly explore of the apartment, when he'd finally become impatient enough to go hunting for Johnny instead of the other way around, revealed that he was in his room. Fresh from the shower, shirtless, hair damp, droplets of water on his skin ,the jeans he was wearing low enough for Reed to know he wasn't wearing pants. Damn. Reed felt his blood rushing downwards again. He averted his eyes to intently study Johnny's CD collection, mostly comprised of singers and bands he'd never heard of. Johnny didn't acknowledge his presence, rummaging though piles of clothes while mumbling the lyrics to the rock song playing.

Reed coughed and turned the volume down. Johnny turned towards him, and he just spotted a roll of his eyes. Reed frowned. "Have I done something wrong?" He asked, confused.

"I dunno. Have you?"

Reed blinked; flustered by the way the question had been turned around. Obviously he had, otherwise Johnny wouldn't have been acting like this. It was unusual; if you did something to annoy the hotheaded young man, he made sure you knew about it. He argued and yelled and slammed doors and burned things up, but at least you _knew_. You knew what you'd done and how to make up for it. But, right now, Reed didn't have a clue.

"Well, yes. Obviously. I've…" He trailed off and struggled to think. Whatever it was, he couldn't remember doing it. He was too absent-minded for his own good. Lost in equations and formulae, he could lose friends and make enemies without ever noticing. "Johnny, I'm afraid I haven't a clue what it is I've done to offend you. But I'm sorry for it. Truly."

And there was Johnny's strange laugh again, low and quiet, and to Reed it sounded bitter. He looked up from the CD collection to try and examine Johnny's face, but Johnny had his back to him, staring at the wall instead. "Yeah, man, I know. And I guess I should be sorry too., right? I crossed a line, or over-stepped a boundary or whatever last time. Won't happen again." His voice was still bland, as if these lines had been rehearsed.

Reed ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face. "I think…" He started, and paused when the muscles in Johnny's back tensed. It was quite a nice back, really. Tanned and hard and smooth. It was hardly a surprise that Ben had taken to referring to Johnny as an 'underwear model'. Really– wait, wait, focus, Reed, focus. "I think that, maybe, I might like for it to happen again."

Johnny spun around, fire in his eyes. Reed's pulse sped up, suddenly aware that he was in a room with a very dangerous person. Out of all their 'gifts', Johnny's could be seen as potentially the most damaging. That was a scary thought.

"Don't, Reed. I mean it. Don't say shit like that to me. It's not fair." Reed flinched back. He didn't have a clue what he was dealing with, what was happening. He took a cautious step forwards all the same, ready to leap back and run away if he saw flames.

Johnny's jaw clenched, and he let out a long breath through his nose, but nothing else threatening happened. Nothing violent enough to warrant a retreat.

Several more steps forwards and Reed was at a loss about what to do. He stood in front of Johnny. Right in front of him, barely a hand's breadth between them. He'd come this far, but now he was lost. He wanted to run his hands over Johnny's bare chest, to see if it was as smooth as it looked, and he wanted to claim Johnny's mouth in a searing kiss, and he wanted to push Johnny back onto the bed behind him and claim _him _in other ways too. But Reed wasn't good at taking what he wanted. In fact, he renowned for being bad at it, for being too weak, too flexible.

Therefore, it was a good thing that the person he wanted was Johnny, otherwise they would have stood like that for a long time. As Johnny was more of a go-getter, his hand grabbed Reed's waistband and tugged him forwards, closing those last few inches between them. Then Johnny's lips were on his own, and there was hot breath in his mouth and Reed couldn't remember anyone ever kissing him like this, like they were desperate for him.

Perhaps that was just the way Johnny kissed everyone, Reed reasoned as they both tripped onto the bed, Johnny a warm and hard weight beneath him. Yes, he wasn't getting any special treatment here. Anyone lucky enough to have Johnny's attention on them would be kissed like this, touched like this.

They broke apart breathless, and Reed sat back to watch the rhythmical rising and falling of Johnny's bare chest, to drink in the way it made those muscles ripple. His lips tingled, almost numb, almost painful. "What do I… _we _do now?" He whispered, waiting for instructions.

No instructions were forthcoming, though. "Nothing you don't want." Johnny answered vaguely. That stopped Reed in his tracks. What did he want? Sue. He'd always wanted Sue - she represented the perfect life to him. And yet, he also wanted to continue with this, to keep his mouth tingling with this near-pain. So he nodded resolutely – it would just be this once, one time, and Sue would never find out – then pulled his navy sweater over his head.

Reed's memories grow fuzzy after that. He can recall Johnny's hands and lip on his chest immediately after removing his jumper, and he can remember the vague salty taste of Johnny's skin, but beyond that is merges into one long blur of pleasure. It had been slow and gentle, because Reed had been on top and he didn't know any other way to have sex than to make love.

That's why now, as he continues to spend his sleepless night – or evening, seeing as it's only 9pm – staring down at Johnny, he thinks he prefers it when Johnny takes charge. Because then it's wild and free and hard, and it allows Reed to pretend that he isn't… the he isn't Reed Richards.

He needs that. His entire life he's been trapped by the constraints of his mind, his intellect, his degrees and his silence. There were long stretches of time during which he didn't feel human. He felt isolated, disconnected, separate. Sue approved of it. She encouraged his constant quest for knowledge and brilliance.

Johnny made fun of it.

Sue agreed with his strict plans. Calendars, schedules, routines ruled his life. Spontaneity was a foreign word; for Reed, it translated to buying his newspaper at a different shop, or having cereal for breakfast instead of toast. His life was methodical, structured.

Asked to stick to a plan, Johnny would flip you off and rip up the schedule.

When Johnny kissed him, some of that reckless abandonment transferred between them. Hard, fast, messy, with Johnny there just wasn't time to deliberate. Forcefully, Johnny dragged you into the moment and kept you there, as if nothing else matter but the slide of flesh on flesh and the warmth of his body.

Reed always felt a little crazy when he was alone with Johnny. Crazy, wild, restless. Was this how Johnny always felt? Did it pain him to keep still, to stay isolated? If he wasn't doing something, did it gnaw at his brain until he was?

If that's the case, Reed isn't sure whether to envy or pity him. He loves that alive feeling, for a short time. A drug, a hit, an addiction. Experiencing it all the time would either drive him mad or kill him.

Maybe Johnny _is _mad, Reed thinks as he brushes a kiss against the other's forehead. Yes, he acts mad enough most of the time, to the chagrin of those around him. But he's happy, with a smile, grin or mocking smirk never far from his face. At least Johnny's happy in his madness. At least Johnny's willing to share some of his madness with him.


End file.
